₦airaland Forum

At ten
A thought I feared manifested.
Thoughts not to be feared, but was feared.
Why are humans engrossed in irrelevances?
What if death was the peace in disguise?

At eighteen
life becomes more gripping
gripping that I totally forgot all about
the cold sweats.

At twenty
it was a whole new mode.
I became skittish in almost everything.
Now I can see the world but the world
can't see me.

I loath each time a
new candle is blown.
Joy in grieving season.
What sort of unending ritual is this?
Birthdays are alarms in disguise
reminding us of man's greatest fear.

I hate this culture.
each time I blow out a candle
a new fear creeps in
The fear of not standing upright
The fear of not remaining an
adonis.

Once a spotless face
now filled with wrinkles.
Once a Bae.
now called Grandpa.

Where did the wishes go?
Ever young wish
where did they go?
ominously smiling while
It creeps in.

Slowly one has to live with it
Slowly one has to enjoy it
Slowly one has to be drained by it
That is the fears-
the fear of growing old.

©Bright Alado

At ten
A thought I feared manifested.
Thoughts not to be feared, but was feared.
Why are humans engrossed in irrelevances?
What if dying was the peace in disguise?

At eighteen
life becomes more gripping
gripping that I totally forgot all about
the cold sweats.

At twenty
it was a whole new mode.
I became skittish in almost everything.
Now I can see the world but the world
can't see me.

I loath each time a
new candle is blown.
Joy in grieving season.
What sort of unending ritual is this?
Birthdays are alarms in disguise
reminding us of man's greatest fear.

I hate this culture.
each time I blow out a candle
a new fear creeps in
The fear of not standing upright
The fear of not remaining an
adonis.

Once a spotless face
now filled with wrinkles.
Once a Bae.
now called Grandpa.

Where did the wishes go?
Ever young wish
where did they go?
ominously smiling while
It creeps in.

Slowly one has to live with it
Slowly one has to enjoy it
Slowly one has to be drained by it
That is the fears-
the fear of growing old.

©Bright Alado

Tittle: Shots fired.
A Fiction play
Written by: Bright A. A

You see... Love is a beautiful thing I must say, but the thing I don't like about love is that It has two faces.

Face One: Love Can Make You.
Face Two: Love Can Break You.

The love that killed me can also be the same one that gave you back your life. It all depends on fate to decide on how and who we fall in love with. don't go falling when you're suppose to be running.

Things can go from bad to worst in a twinkle of an eye.

Just like these our friends here.

Things stopped being the way they use to with Dave and Semira. These two has been in a relationship for quite some time now, and all was perfect, but not up until now. (THE END OF THE BEGINNING)


David was seen by his girl friend talking to someone on the phone, not knowing that Mira was behind him. He flinched the moment his attention was called upon.

Mira: Baby! (he flinched)

Mira: (looks at him in a strange way) Why are you acting weird?

David: Weird?!?! Me?!?! (he laughs it off even though it wasn't funny)

Mira: well, I Was looking all over the house for you. Who was it on the phone that made you excuse yourself the way you did?

David: oh, the phone? Babe It's no one to worry about.

Mira: OK then, can we go inside now? Am starting to get bored already. (she walks close to him and planted a soft kiss on his forehand, then grabbed his hands to walk him inside)

Mira: my God! Why are your hands damp?

David: (..................)

Mira knows Dave too well. His hands can only be damp when his lying or hiding something. What could that possibly be she thought.

(Hope you're not trying to ask me Abi? Even as the omniscient here, I still don't know why the dude's hands was wet. But we can find out together.)

Ok, Their both back at the sitting room, and nobody was talking to the other, because for some reason Mira thought Dave was hiding something from her, and that's why she's ignoring him even when being spoken to.

David: what is it?

Mira: Mtchewwww (with her head still fixed to her cell phone)

[I swear I hate it when girl's act like this. For Christ sake Nigga ain't do shit! At least not yet.]

David: (phone rings) excuse me I got to take this.

David: (rushed back to the house few minutes later, took his car key, and drove off without saying a word to her)

Mira got off, quickly rushed outside to board a cab, she asked the driver to follow Dave's car to know where he was headed. Dave who does not know he was being followed drove into a hotel.

Mira: the Bleep is he doing here? I knew it. I always knew he was up to something the moment I found out the sweaty fingers. So this piece of shit is seeing someone else?

She slowly walked behind Dave with him not knowing she was behind him.

Dave got to a door, picked up his phone and seem to call the occupant of the room.

David: room 7 right? ...am already at the door step.

Mira who was now filled with rage and anger was thinking of a plan, a plan to know who the slut was, and how she was going to get herself inside the room.

A knock was heard at the door.

David: whose at the door? (Dave answered from the inside)


Feminine voice: it's the room service. Your orders are ready sir.

David: my world! Mira! What are you doing here? (He asked in shock as he opens the door for the supposed room service)

Mira: (she looked round the room) where is she?

David: where is who?

David: Baby calm down! It's not what you think. I can explain.

Mira: did you think I followed you here just so we could dialogue? (She shouted again) where the Bleep is she?

David: (........)

Mira: (she brought out a gun from her mini bag) where is she, goddamn it! (she pointed the gun at him)

David: where did you? ...baby please! I can explain, just put the gun away.

Mira: put the gun away? Like are you serious? The Bleep are you doing in a hotel?

David: (.........)

Mira: oh you've lost your voice right? I said, where is she? (the bathroom shower turns on, and they both faced the direction of the bathroom.

Mira walks to the bathroom door. Pa! Pa! Pa! She fired three shot at the bathroom door. David screams and falls to the ground.

David: Mira no! You just shot your fucking brother!

Mira: (............)

Mira slowly walked to the bathroom door, slowly she opened it. What! the body of her only brother is laying lifeless on the pool of his own blood, she just killed her brother. She screams and turned to face David again.

Mira: (in tears) why didn't you tell me? (Points the gun at him)

David: babe I tried to tell you, but you didn't give me the chance to.

Mira: how long? How long have you been fucking my brother gaddamn it!

David: it's been... Wait, what?! Fucking who? (He asked with shock in his eyes) God! No! That's not what... Like are you serious? Me? gay?

Mira: (with the gun still pointed at him) then how the Bleep are you going to explain the both of you in a hotel room?

David: (shaking vigorously) babe calm down. This was what happened. Earlier today I was on the phone with your brother. I asked him to get me the best ring from his shop that I'll use to propose to you, and that also explains the damp fingers, because i noticed that was why you were kinda angry with me earlier. Babe I was going to propose to you today. I called him again to know why it was taking him time, and he texted this message to me Here. (He handed the phone to her)

Mira took the phone and reads out the massage. The text reads...

From Collins.
David am sorry, but I can't meet with you at your gate. Something came up. Please can you meet me at Grange hills Hotel? There's this girl I've been chatting with on Facebook for quite some time now, and she has agreed to meet me today. The last time we spoke she said she'll meet me in ten minutes, that's why I had to rush to the Hotel and get prepared before she calls back again. As for the ring, I selected four of the best rings I have, and am going to sell it to you for free (lol). kindly Pick the one you think suits her, I'll comeback later to pick the rest. My sister deserves the best. Am really happy for her.

Mira: (slumps)

Grin! Grin! The doorbell rang. The girl whom Her brother had a rendezvous with was at the door.

The End.
Written by: Bright A. A

....

Continuation...

If I had the chance to blame anyone, it would have been my father, and that would have been as a result of the striking contrast between what he promised and what I got . But hey, I was not afforded that chance as things moved a bit faster than I had expected.
“Paul, if you’re ever gonna have a problem living with Maxwell and his family, it’d be of your own makings. “ Those were the words with which my father bade me farewell from the place of my birth.
I knew I was going to be a good kid and if the problem was going to be of my makings then there won’t be any problems at all;the man whom my father introduced as my boss was of a peaceful predisposition, and heck, he don’t look like he talked too much and that made me think my father was probably right.
But I as well as my father was wrong ; wrong as hell. Only problem was we didn’t know it until it was rather too late. My father probably measured every man in the same standard with which he measured himself; he probably thought -without making much enquiry – that every man – my boss included-is the head of his home and dictates the affairs of everyone just like himself. In him there was no form of liberalism whatsoever and he’s of the unwavering belief that every leader ought to adopt the same system of thought if they were to leave any legacies behind them.
In the course of the short arrangement for my leaving home, nobody said anything about the fact that my boss had a wife; but he did have a wife, and a darned beautiful one for that matter ; and she’s the woman that would change the story of my life forever. She’s the one who’s angelic beauty caused my jaws to drop in awe; where I grew up, it was almost abominable for a kid -yet to be a man- to acknowledge a woman let alone, her beauty. But that doesn’t mean we kids didn’t know the beautiful ones when we see them only thing we did was to keep shut about them for fear of getting cursed or starved or disowned, you know stuff like that. And that was what went down when I first met my boss' wife; it was like her beauty had invisible claws that reached down to my heart through my gasping mouth and pulled at the fabrics of my soul but I knew I'd be damned as Satan in hell to say a thing about it - she seemed to know what I was thinking though . Yeah, her beauty really had claws and she knew it, alright. And in the course of my apprenticeship, she reached out some more with those claws, blackened my heart and changed the hue of my soul forever. My life never remained the same again, not after the first time I saw her.

When I was young I used to think that the aphorism, what you sow is what you reap, is true to all issues of life without any exceptions whatsoever. But looking back , I feel differently about how true this saying might be; a suspicion has risen in me that there might be a few or many exceptions to this rule; that some people have been damned even from the womb such that anything they touch becomes just about as damned as them; that nature might choose to pay you with evil even after you have done a whole lot of good.
Like I said earlier, this is merely a suspicion but I’d rather not rule out the possibility of such suspicion being true because most_if not all_discoveries of truth have come from mere suspicion .
I wasn’t the most fortunate kid in the world and I wasn’t born with a silver spoon . My parents weren’t the richest people in the world. No, they weren't even close. Everyday, we get to wake up and ask for the necessities of life. In some of the rich homes they probably did the same thing but the difference between what we did and what they do is a matter of kind and not of degrees; they already had what they asked for while we hoped to get what we asked for.
I grew up in that lifestyle and though it wasn’t the best anyone would have hoped for, I did love it as a child. Yeah there was the occasional hunger and we got to put on rags but we were happy that way. We slept and woke up on mats ,some of us pissed in bed and got spanked by either of mama and Papa but look that was the way they were brought up and you couldn’t blame then for spanking your ass when you were the cause anyway.
When I was five, I enrolled in the local elementary school where I met a whole lot of new friends and learned a whole lot of things ; I only did six years but thank God I could read and write . The the teachers thought I was a smart kid and needed to go further or I’d be a waste of natural endowments . Mrs Adenike, my class mistress even had to come home with me on learning that I’d be going no further than elementary six, her simple reason for coming was to convince my parents to let me go further but my father wasn’t going for it. Not that he didn’t want to but he always said it would be foolish of any one to start something they obviously won’t be able to finish. I always thought he was right.
Mrs Adenike was the fat type and she had some trouble passing through the small door that linked our small house to the outside world . My father was relaxing in his wooden chair at a semi sleeping position with his face to the roof which didn’t have any form of ceilings (and that should tell tell you we had hard times at cold nights ). He was at first taken by surprise and his face didn’t conceal it; this was because all comments and advices that I needed to further my education had always come from hearsay like....... “ Pa, this was what my headmaster said today” or “Pa, class two teacher thinks it would be a shame if I stopped at six “. But today here a teacher stood and I could feel my father sending some telepathic warning like “ Son I hope you have done no wrong ‘cause your ass is gonna be in a sling”.
He didn’t have to wait for long though. “Good afternoon sir” Mrs Adenike greeted. There wasn’t any sofas or armchairs or any of those things in the ten feet square sitting room. There was my father’s wooden chair and there were a couple of small wooden stools as well. The wooden stools were packed together at one corner of the room.
“you’re welcome ma’am “ replied my father. “Paul, do get her a stool from there. “ he said pointing to where the stools were packed. I walked across the room and brought one for my teacher to sit.
For a reason best known to him my father ordered me out of the room . I obeyed and walked out through the door that led into the passage which in turn led to the back exit door. Though I was ordered out I wasn’t ordered not to eavesdrop and so I helped myself.
I caught every word from the conversation that ensued, with an underlying hopethat my father would be convinced by the extra effort of Mrs Adenike .
“Auntie, we already concluded the matter. “ my father said with a hint that he would say no more about e subject . “Paul is my son and I want the best for him and that is why he’ll be leaving the village within the week. Remember that education is not all about spending long years within the blocks of a classroom; travelling is also a part of education and if you don’t have one type you better don’t lack the other”
I wasn’t there to see off Mrs Adenike so I could see what was written on her face but I didn’t need to be there to know that it was nothing but disappointment and regret and the wish that she could help me. I suspected that she would have helped me if she could and now that she couldn’t I had to face the life that I didn’t want and to live through it like it’s my heritage.
I didn’t know exactly what lay in wait but I didn’t hope it would a bed of roses because a lot if stories have been told and most -if not all – of the stories were damning.

NOTE: don't miss the next episode as Paul narrates his struggles with JEZEBEL.

NOTE:
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real life is totally coincidental .
Whether or not this is going to be in my future or was in my past is, in fact, a matter of little or no importance because occurrences like this is very rare and if I were you I’d rather not miss any part of this weekly release that begins today...

YOUR CRITICISM IS WELCOME!!!!
but make una easy oh

Africanbest:
Also read; Letter to the ABORTED child



Dear Child,


I am sorry for making you pass through that pain.
I am sorry for giving you hope of arrival.
I am sorry for giving you a home called womb,
And destroying it with bombs called medicine.
I am so sorry.
Yes, I had s*x but I wasn't ready for the price.
Yes, it was my peers who told me how sweet,
And pleasurable sex was.
Yes, it was still my peers who introduce me to the bombs.
Bombs like postinor2......

Hahahaha bad guy, I'm sure the baby would forgive after he gets this.

girlspet1:
I once said we're all blessed in different ways it's your ability to find out your talent and make use of it, imagine the thought and studies before putting this down, my brother you will excel.

Thanks ma bro

ftosino:
I Detest Women That Abort. I Hate The Man Not Taking Responsibility, They Are Beasts. i am never in support of abortion. Thanks Op, for an eye-opener post.

Even the sound of the word abortion, scares the crap outta me; that was why I had to come up with this.

becca2017:
Oh my..... i cant believe i cried, this is so emotional and heartbreaking, i promise not to abort. thumbs up writer!! God bless u

Thanks.
Refer the post to your friends too

EvaJael:
Very touching. Thumbs up op

Thanks ma'am, the pleasure is mine.

Joislim:
Someone help me with a hanky

OP, brightalo?

Awwwwwn�
Take it easy my friend

philo04:
I will never abort ....

Yield to your words bruv

Temtopy:
wow this is so emotional and I wish ladies will read this and understand its purpose. may God help our generation nd bless the writer

I'm glad you liked it, thanks for the prayer.

I've been a member since 2013 but decided to deactivate my account to go anonymous, for reasons best known to me.

Critics:check
Insult me: check.




Try and read to the end, if you want tho!

(F) fiction of the first order

Title: A Letter from An Aborted Baby
#fiction

Dear Ma.

I noticed my heart started beating. I felt warmness all over... it's obvious I'm inside the womb. I felt very much alive. I just can't wait to come out of here and take good care of you and the person I thought was going to be my loving father. Mom you always sent food down there to me which I enjoyed every bit of. I loved how soft and slimy the food were, but mom, you suddenly stoped and left me hungry for days. I wondered what made you stop, not knowing you just found out I was down there... and it made you scared. Mom for Christ sake! I was just 2months old... How could you allow the devil to use you? Mom I was suppose to have a great life if only you had allowed it. God himself told me that. He said... I was gonna have a great life and that I was going to be the smile you longed for. but Mom you ended my life even before it started. You guys knew you wasn't ready to bring a child to this world, why then did you guys do it without protection? Why should my own case be any differ? Mom I had dreams but you both took that away from me. That night I overheard him saying things to you.

"baby! these not what we need right now, we still have a great future ahead of us, and this thing you're carrying will ruin those dreams for us".

Mom we both know his wrong, the three of us can still have that great future together. all you guys thought about was the both of your selves only. What about me? Is being alive not for me? imagine if your own parents had done same to you; would you be here plotting against me? Mom he even called me a thing and you allowed it... Mom how could you be so heartless?. I was so hurt that night. the rest of the discussions you both had was no longer interesting because everything you two had been saying made no sense. A week had passed and I thought all was well and settled but I lied... after dinner that faithful night, they came... they looked strange from what you do send down here to me. you usually send me already grinned food, but these right here is way too different and strange, I've never seen such before. but Ma. I trusted you and I knew you'll never do anything to hurt me. Still confused looking at those white strange looking candies in front of me, not sure what they are... but I still manage to open my mouth out of trust. Even though I sensed trouble, I still allowed the strange looking candies go down my stomach. Some seconds later, I started feeling uncomfortable, immeasurable pains that I can't explain was all upon me, I wanted screaming but I can't, all I had with me was my thoughts. The burns continued for about five minute or so... I started losing my cool and balance, everywhere became slippery, I started waxing-away... there and then it dawned on me that you're trying to terminate me. Mom I even hate the fact that am writing to you right now, or the fact that I even called you mom once. I wanted you and him to pay dearly for what you both did to me, but I'm sorry Ma. I don't know him, it's you I know. You took what's most precious to me (my life) and am going to take what's most vital to you (your womb), yes! it's with me... I realised that you're not worthy to be called a mother, and again... I don't want my siblings to face the same fate like I did. I rallied all over your tummy looking for what to take from you, at some point I thought about taking you with me as a result of multiple lost of blood but no... I wanted you to stay alive and see for yourself what you did. How could you use a permanent solution to solve a temporary situation? Now see where your ignorance has landed you. You have no choice than to live with it all your life, his gonna remarry anyway... because no mother would allow her son to marry a womb-less woman even for the fact that he caused it.

Yours truly
The baby you
Never had
●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Note from the writer:
These pies of work right here was not put together to inflict pain on anyone, rather... it's just a young writer trynna be creative the best way he can. Should in case the write-ups corresponds with your life, your friends, loved ones. I'm sincerely sorry for it is a mare coincidence.

#signed and writing by:
Bright The anonymous